


Blame Me

by KazeChama



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Little comfort, Screaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 07:40:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5366864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KazeChama/pseuds/KazeChama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen feels bad after a mission to intercept red lyrium smugglers fails.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blame Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [not_poignant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/not_poignant/gifts).



> Written as a tumblr meme fill. Any kind of feedback makes me happy, thanks <3

Cullen read the report over and over again. Something had to be wrong. This just couldn't be right.

There had to be a mistake. He started walking up and down his office, report in hand. Three steps in one direction, turning then another ten steps before he would hit the opposite wall.

He was restless. He put the report down passing at his table and climbed the ladder to his room. He didn't need anything from upstairs but he hoped the distance could change what he read.

There were much more mages than their reconnaissance suggested. The Qunari reconnaissance, really. Why did they trust the Qunari scouts? He should have send in some of Leliana's people. He should have send more reinforcements with them. Another elite team would have been enough to prevent the bloodbath. He should have gone himself.

A tiny bit in his brain whispered, _what would one ex-Templar more have done?_ but he ignored that voice.

Cullen realised, he'd been pacing in his quarters when he nearly hit the wall. His office was a step longer. He didn't count the steps, he just knew from having paced in it so often.

“Commander?” came a voice from below. Someone was standing at the door.

“I'll be there in a moment, come inside.” Cullen's brain went to automatic replies for a work situation. Someone needed him, so he would be in the office to deal with said person. He climbed down; his brain storing the failed mission away while there were other things to concentrate on.

He turned to the person waiting with a clinical “Yes? What is it?” That he tried for calm and not too harsh was forgotten the moment he saw the Iron Bull facing him. He opened his mouth, but all words were lost. Cullen blinked several times.

“Commander?” Bull's voice somehow registered in his brain. Cullen shook his head.

“How can I help you?” he wanted to say more, address the Iron Bull with his full name but he couldn't.

“About the failed ambush on the red-lyrium smugglers…”

It had to be the one thing Cullen didn't want to think about. “Failure.” He was a failure. He should have prepared for this mission better.

Bull stood up straighter, “Those are harsh words, Commander.”

“But the mission was of strategic value. We could have cut off red lyrium supplies for Corypheus. Instead we lost lives because of lacking reconnaissance.” Cullen grabbed the report from his desk again.

“We did all we could, Commander.”

“I know, I'm not blaming you.” Maybe if he set the report on fire, it would change what's written on it.

“You're not?” 

The surprise in Bull's voice made Cullen look up and properly consider the Qunari in his office. He mentally recapitulated the conversation. “Did you… Maker! Did you think, I was calling you a failure?”

“Well,” Bull shrugged with one shoulder, “we lost the alliance with the Qunari because of me saving my men. So, yeah.”

“The Inquisitor decided to save valuable member of the Inquisition. If anyone is to blame, it's me for not preparing enough.” Cullen crumbled the report and threw it at his desk. Regret about mistreating his files could come later.

“Commander...” Bull broke off.

“Blame me. Everyone will blame me anyway.” Cullen smiled despite his words, or precisely because of them.

“I,” Bull's voice got even deeper, “am a Tal-Vashoth. I am the failure here. If I had any balls, the Inquisition would still have an alliance with the Qun. I chose the Chargers over what I've known all my life.”  
“You've acted like a Tal-Vashoth for years anyway.” Cullen tried to offer support. He wasn't any good with words. Or any inter-personal relations, really.

“I hunted Tal-Vashoth for years before that. Now _I am_ Tal-Vashoth.”

Cullen was the Commander here, yet he felt like he needed supervision badly. He remembered that Bull came to see him for a reason. This talk was straying off topic for too long. “What did you want to tell me?”

“There was an assassination attempt at me.”

“Assassins in Skyhold?” Cullen was back in his loop of self-blame with just one sentence. How could this happen under his command?

“Yeah, yeah. They're taken care of. I don't think more will try their luck,” Bull waved it off, still moving only one hand. Was the other hurt in the attack?

“Are you all-right?” Cullen asked high-pitched. He gestured to Bull's arm.

“Am I- Are _you_ all-right?” Bull looked at him with horror.

Cullen gaped speechless at Bull. That man lost so much because Cullen was an incompetent Commander and now he was nearly killed. “I'm not all-right.” Bull asking about his well-being was the last straw. His voice rose in shrillness until he screamed. “Blame me,” he broke down in front of the Iron Bull, “I'm useless and powerless.” He grabbed more files from his desk and threw them against the wall. “Blame me! I need…” his voice turned into a whisper as he admitted a shameful secret, “Control.”

Cullen wanted to be in control of his life and the things happening. When he was the one to blame, then he was also the one responsible. He tried hard to take the blame and when the Bull didn't react, Cullen couldn't hide it anymore. He wasn't at fault. His mouth continued working silently, his arms swinging at his sides but his feet couldn't move.

Bull simply locked all the doors into Cullen's office. “You need a break.”

He looked around the office. “No stick, hm. I don't think it would help you anyway.”

Cullen stared at Bull. That's all he was capable of. Bull nodded at him, “Wanna scream more?”

Cullen just shook his head.

“Mind if I do?” Bull didn't want for an answer, he kicked Cullen's table, shouted some angry Qulant stomping to each door and kicking it repeatedly. Not once did he look at Cullen but the angry tone of his voice soothed something raw in Cullen's gut. Bull being angry, even if it wasn't at him or on his behalf, helped Cullen work through his own silent anger. It also made him realise that Bull had every reason to be angry, yet nobody to be angry at.

“I'm sorry,” Cullen mumbled as Bull slowed down his stomping, “For what it's worth. I think saving the Chargers was more important than an alliance with the Qun.”

As all was said and all the anger dealt with, Bull took his leave, nodding. “They are the best.”


End file.
